Chapter One-Hundred-Thirteen

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Author's Note: Kylo Ren's POV

No more of her sweet, limitless, powerful love that made me feel like I was on top of a mountain but she was still so much higher than I.

No more Nira.

All I could do was look into her dead eyes and know she was gone.

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I shook the thought of the horrible dream out of my head as quickly as the flashback had come.

The dream was what made me afraid to talk to my mother.

If Leia had murdered Nira as cruelly as in my dream, I would be thirsty for her blood. Family or not, she would have taken away the one thing that mattered to me -- Nira.

Yet . . . That is what I did to her.

Han Solo and Leia Organa were in love for several years even before I was born. Their love must have only grown stronger after they had a child . . .

And I ripped apart their love. Han and Leia's love was certainly of the strongest because of how long it continued.

I ended that for them. I killed the man my mother loves.

So yes, I am sure that she despises me with every small cell in her body. Leia is too kind to want to kill me, so surely she will want to reject me instead.

That is why I can't face her. I am too much of a coward to face her. My dream showed me exactly how much I hurt her. I had woken up from that dream shaking and sweating with legitimate tears running down my face.

I had made that dream Leia's reality. The inability to scream because of how badly it hurt, the gaping, growing hole of darkness in the chest, the blankness of the mind due to pure horror -- I had put all of those dreaded, terrible things onto my very own mother.

There was no way for me to make what I did up to her. No amount of apologies can truly show regret for taking one's love.

I can't do anything to fix what I did. I can't take back my lightsaber pushing through Han's skin, I can't transfer the blame onto anything else, and I can't say that anything except for my hands killed Leia's soulmate.

I am too afraid of how much my mother hates me, and that's why I can't talk to her.

Communicating with her the first time was already excruciating. Looking her in the eyes was my own personal torture because I could understand the pain that was occurring behind them -- only because of my dream, however. Her pain was true.

I could sense how much she hates me.

Now I had to talk to her again because the treaty was passed. I had to talk with her for the First Order so the treaty could get officially passed. All I need to do is inform the Resistance General of the consensus we have come to, and then I wouldn't have to speak with her for another very long time -- hopefully forever.

I tore my mind away from the depressing topic because I had reached the exterior of my cell. It was late at night.

I walked inside to see Nira sitting on the bed, going over a few papers most likely from her new position. Upon my entrance, she looked up at me.

I took off my helmet. Nira gave me a toothless, gentle smile, and I set my helmet on the dresser.

"Hello." She greeted calmly.

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